


The Personal Assistant

by nikki_routed



Category: JYJ (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2108763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikki_routed/pseuds/nikki_routed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Good employees are hard to find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Personal Assistant

**Author's Note:**

> The ‘Minho’ mentioned is Lee Minho, because, why the hell not? He wore a Moldir bag, didn’t he? o.o”
> 
> I don’t know what a beta is or does but if it involves reading drafts and saying “Keep going” and “don’t change a thing” then Cheryl was awesome ;~~; Thank you bb, much love! The last half of the story is un-beta-ed however, so I claim all responsibility.

 

“I need a new P.A.” Yoochun whines desperately into the phone. “Sunye, find me a P.A.”

There’s a confused pause and he really can’t blame his older sister. “Um,” she says. “I’m a house-wife?”

“You have contacts, I know you do! You always know someone who knows someone who knows someone. Please, I’m begging, okay?”

Her sigh filters down the phone line all the way from her kitchen to the executive office on the 11th floor of the architectural wonder home to Park Global Inc.

“Now what?”

Yoochun lowers his voice though there is no real need to. He’s alone in his office and the desk outside is unmanned. Not just unmanned but vacant as of one hour ago.  Also, it’s 7:30 p.m. and though people are working overtime in the other floors of the building just like him, the 11th floor is pretty much just his office, affording him all the privacy he needs.

“She came into my office with no underwear,” he says unhappily. “And don’t ask me how I know that.”

There’s a scandalized half-gasp, half-laugh before Sunye responds. “ _Shut up_! Really?”

“Really.” Yoochun’s voice is dull. “I had to get security to escort her out in the end.”

“Oh my God, Yoochun. Why do you attract all the nut-jobs?”

The question is purely rhetorical, of course. It’s the Park money. Millions and millions of it.

“Seduction, entrapment, evil machinations. You take office intrigue to a whole new level, bro,” Junsu comments.

Yoochun growls, a sound so reminiscent of his sister that his brother-in-law snorts with laughter.

“Can you not put me on speaker phone without asking?” he complains to his sibling.

“Why? You tell him everything anyway,” she says.

That’s kinda true so he lets it go. “I’m going out of my mind! I am _tired_ of being harassed in my own office!”

“I can find you one, Chunnie,” Sunye offers sympathetically, “but there’s no guarantee it will turn out any different. I mean, they all come with impeccable references at first-“

Yes, Yoochun thinks morosely. They all seem so _normal_ but a few months in and he’s suddenly dodging home-cooked lunch boxes, uninvited visits to his penthouse on the 12 th floor, invitations to movies and the opera, gratuitous glimpses of exposed cleavage down unbuttoned shirts or more inspired flashes of garter belts.

Though admittedly, no-one has given him such a stark lesson in female anatomy before now. This is right up there with the one last year who had tried to drug him and then climb into his bed, a ploy only thwarted by the jealousy of her ‘friend’ from the front desk.

It’s not that Yoochun is averse to invitations to play per se. But he’s 27, a lot more jaded about where his real appeal lies, and now he just wants to be left alone at work as he tries to keep his father’s multi-million dollar legacy running smoothly.

He’s tried hiring older women well in the ‘safe age’ bracket but inevitably they have daughters or nieces and it’s not long before they too get that glint in their eyes.

He lets out a pitiful groan causing his sister and brother-in-law to exchange glances.

“Well, I’ll tell you what,” Sunye says bracingly. “I’ll call around tomorrow and work up a list of potential secretaries that my closest friends can personally attest for-“

“Why don’t you hire a male this time?” Junsu interjects.

There’s a long silence at both ends of the line.

A male secretary.

Yoochun examines that idea from all angles and

“That could work,” he says slowly, mind racing. “That…really could work.”

“Baby,” Sunye squeals, “that’s a _brilliant_ idea.”

There’s a sound like a wife showing her husband some heart-felt appreciation and Yoochun grimaces.

“Ok, can you guys at least not kiss while on speaker phone?” he grumbles.

Junsu hangs up on him.

Yoochun stares at the phone in his hand, then gives a shout of laughter. He laughs again when he gets a text an hour later from Sunye to say she’s still going to be screening for interviewees only through friends and associates, to be safe.

 

*

 

There are three names on the list at the end of the week because the typing pool is not really a male oriented sector in Korea and then there is Sunye’s ‘screening.’

Yoochun goes with the first name on the list since she has seen fit to underline it multiple times in different colored ink.

_Kim Jaejoong_

 

*

 

He calls Kim Jaejoong to schedule an interview, pleased with the warm timbre on the other end of the line. They go over hours and pay and days off and benefits and he deduces for himself that the letters of reference have not exaggerated. Jaejoong is intelligent, personable, rather charming actually. He needs a job rather soon, because the non-profit organization he worked for has gone under due to lack of funding, and _Yoochun_ needs a secretary rather soon since it’s a nightmare to manage himself along with company affairs so, somehow, the phone call ends with him practically offering Jaejoong the job. The actual interview the next day is more a formality at this point.

Jaejoong seems pretty pleased and Yoochun is also pretty pleased. He will not be dodging any more marriage traps, Jaejoong’s voice is so fantastic clients will think it’s a pleasure to deal with the he’s-not available-at-the-moment-but-I’ll-take-a-message evasions and all-in-all, life is good.

He’s got such a good feeling about everything, he texts Junsu a row of hearts. Junsu texts back a prim ‘No, thanks. I’m taken.’

 

*

 

At the very first face-to-face interview with his new Personal Assistant, Yoochun experiences a slight sensation of being winded. It’s just been a few minutes and it’s already become something he can’t handle.

He’s not sure what he had expected in his hazy idea of a male personal assistant but he is pretty sure Kim Jaejoong is not it. For one thing, a P.A. needs to be unobtrusive, especially in high-profile meetings and he really somehow cannot see Jaejoong _blending_ in.  There’s his face. And…just…his face.

They rehash terms and conditions and as both parties are still satisfied with what was previously discussed, it proceeds without hiccups. His impression of Jaejoong as someone smart and cheerful is reinforced and all in all, there’s no real reason for Yoochun to retract the offer of a job.

It’s just that…

It’s just that…well, it’s kind of proving a little difficult maybe, to not stare at his newest employee and it is causing him to be vaguely apprehensive.

He feels a lot better though, when he shows Jaejoong out of the building and the 30-something legal advisor who’s been working there for four years catches sight of his new P.A. and walks into a wall.  
Jaejoong is to start the next day and Yoochun’s goodbye is hearty.

 

*

 

"Coffee please," Yoochun murmurs into the phone the next morning, mind already intent on the documents and spread-sheets laid out  in front of him.

A steaming cup appears at his elbow a few minutes later and as he gratefully to takes the first much-needed sip of caffeine--

"What?" he stares blankly at his cup of definitely-not-coffee.

"Caffeine-free herbal tea," Jaejoong announces brightly. "Much more healthy."

"Er, no thank you," Yoochun says politely, taken aback but hiding it well. He places the cup back on the table. "I don't really drink..."

"You should. This is a special blend from that place there." There's a vague gesture towards the general direction of his book shelf. "Very refreshing and _healthy_." He smiles sweetly at Yoochun. "You'll love it."

He certainly would _not_. Yoochun's body and caffeine have spent years forming a highly dependent relationship and no new secretary, however well-intentioned, is getting in the way of that.

"No," Yoochun says, with as much authority as he can in the morning on zero coffee, "I -"

"Besides, I gave away the coffee beans."

Yoochun continues to stare blankly. He feels really ill-equipped to be dealing with a personal assistant who is apparently trying to kill him of caffeine-withdrawal. On his first day.

Isn’t that, like, against company etiquette? Labor laws?

But Jaejoong is walking away like the discussion is over, so, after spending an eternity staring at the cup of something foul, he drinks it. He still needs to get through what promises to be a long day and doesn’t think it’ll do any good to order in coffee. Jaejoong would just intercept the delivery at the door.

 

*

 

On the second day, he walks into his office to find the shelf where the couch was and the couch where the rug was and a large pot of fern-ish things where nothing was. Yoochun can feel the left side of his face twitching. He blames it on strange herbal teas.

“Feng Shui,” Jaejoong explains helpfully when Yoochun calls him in. “The office was a _mess_ of bad energy.” When Yoochun just stares at him, he adds “Trust me. You’ll love it.”

Yoochun is starting to hate that phrase.

 

*

 

 _He’s trying to kill me_ , Yoochun furiously texts Sunye at lunch. _You found me a wacko, good job._

He doesn’t hear back until almost half an hour later and then it’s a curt _I like him already then, you ungrateful brat._

_He refuses to serve me coffee!_

_Suck it up. How is his WORK?_

Yoochun stares at the phone, then hits delete. Feeling sorry for himself, he texts his younger brother at his university instead.

_I’m a lousy judge of character_

Yoohwan’s reply is immediate. _yeah listen can u pay off my credit card i kinda maxed it out last night_

Yoochun vents his feelings by tossing balls of wadded paper into the pot of fern…things.

 

*

 

The following two days are normal – relatively. He is still being served tea and there is the little matter of the flyers Jaejoong passes out to company staff _and_ guests at lunch hour about saving elephants in Thailand.

But then, at the end of the week, he brings in pink balloons to hand to the female staffers as part of a cancer awareness drive or something. There’s not enough to go around but everyone is so touched and there are a gazillion awwww’s  and then somehow by lunch, pink balloons are everywhere. Yoochun even finds one in the Men’s.

So he brings Jaejoong into his office the following Monday, and after staring at his hands for twelve minutes while Jaejoong watches him with an inquiring look, mumbles something about a cup of tea. Jaejoong beams and walks away and Yoochun discovers it is very hard to fire a man for saving elephants, the planet and your aura.

He resigns himself to an office with good Feng Shui.

 

*

 

Now Yoochun has to deal with female employees who ‘drop by’ to giggle at Jaejoong. And male employees.  Everyone in the company, really. Yoochun doesn’t think even he was ever this popular. It’s somewhat mortifying. And annoying. And he really, really wants to fire Jaejoong.

Because it’s all his fault. He’s too

Somehow it’s hard to describe it as anything other than Jaejoong-ish.

Personally of course, Yoochun thinks it is _absurd_ that anyone’s smile could rival the sun but there you are, weird people were just…. _weird_ like that.

No-one else is picking up on the weird vibes apparently.

 

*

 

But strangely enough, Yoochun finds he likes going in to work every morning. And so do his employees, because there is a lot more laughter and a lot more willing hands and a lot less tedium.

Maybe it really is the ferns.

 

*

 

“How’s the weird secretary?” Junsu asks at the end of the month.

Yoochun frowns, offended. “He’s not weird. Just….a little…. _different_.”

Junsu raises an eye-brow but lets the topic rest.

 

*

 

Mr.Yamada is an old, valued business associate and client and though Yoochun has been dealing with the business magnate ever since he took over the reins five years ago, he can’t help the attack of nerves each time. For one thing, Mr.Yamada’s poker face out-pokers anyone Yoochun has ever met, even for a Japanese.

He’s planned every step of the visit meticulously and after a no-expense-spared lunch in one of Seoul’s finest restaurants, they are back in his office to talk shop. Seated comfortably at the couch with the table between them, Mr.Yamada pulls out an after-meal cigar, a life-long habit and Yoochun politely draws the ashtray closer from its position in the corner to a more convenient distance.

This ashtray is blue, like the one it replaced, which is why he doesn’t immediately notice the switch, but he notices quickly enough when Mr.Yamada pauses in the act of lighting up and stares at the elegant, square-shaped accent with its cheerfully emblazoned message.

**Place your cancer stick here.**

There is a strained silence.

“Haha,” Yoochun tries, once he’s recovered a little. “Ha. A dirty Santa gift. Just a joke. Here, let me get you a different-“

Mr.Yamada waves his words aside. “Don’t worry about it,” he says but the unlit cigar disappears back inside his coat and Yoochun spends the entire duration of the meeting devising torturous methods to kill his P.A. without leaving witnesses.

Mr. Yamada is all strict Japanese formality, like always, but as he leaves, he glances at the collection jar in the lobby (for white tigers in India) and the calendar hanging above it with the UNICEF logo. He merely says “You are your father’s son,” and that might just be the tiniest approving glint in his eyes and

Well, his father never murdered infuriating employees in cold blood!

 

*

 

And seriously, now Yoochun can’t even remember his life before Jaejoong and his causes. It just feels like he was always there, fussing over cans left in the non-recycle bin, the dog from the animal shelter that needs a home in two days or else, raffle ticket sales for the children’s hospital across town. The herbal tea that comes with a side of Jaejoong’s smile.

 

*

 

Yoochun walks in one morning and catches sight of a pot with a tiny cactus on Jaejoong’s desk. He stares at it.

“Bad energy?”

“ _Under-appreciated_ ,” Jaejoong glowers, snatching up the thorny plant and stalking into Yoochun’s office. Yoochun can see him through the open door, trying different spots to place it in and grins helplessly.

Jaejoong tilts his head at him when he walks back out. “You look happy,” he says softly, curiously.

“I..” Yoochun can feel his heart hammering. “I am.”

“See?” Jaejoong glows. “The Feng Shui is working.”

 

*

 

“What is _wrong_ with him?” Sunye asks disgustedly at the Sunday family lunch, a tradition insisted upon by their mother ever since her oldest child got to college age.

“I don’t know,” Yoohwan grimaces, “but I want my brother back.”

Yoochun cannot understand all this negativity towards a harmless activity like humming songs. It’s such a beautiful day and the storm clouds are making lovely dark patterns through the huge bay window and it’s going to be so much fun to have to stay over-night at the family home because of the warnings and really, maybe Jaejoong needs to come in and work some of his Feng Shui magic because, boy, do some members of his family need it!

 

*

 

Yoochun has been doing the rounds of his various factories all morning, more an exercise to keep his management-level staff on their toes than anything else and he’s glad to be back inside the comfort of his air-conditioned lobby.

Where his P.A. is apparently socializing instead of diligently filing papers or chasing away bad energy or, you know, personal-assisting _him_.

He studies the stranger beside Jaejoong in as casual a manner as he can. He’s tall, good-looking and standing a little too close.

Yoochun bristles.

He kind of wants to stay and observe but it looks odd for the President of the company to spy on his secretary from behind the lobby’s decorative fountain so he takes the elevator up, then waits for Jaejoong beside his desk, sheaf of papers in hand.

He only has to wait ten minutes but it feels a lot longer so his tone, when he speaks, is rather brusque. “If you’re going to be taking unscheduled breaks, can you let me know ahead of time?”

Jaejoong looks contrite but also a little surprised. It’s the first Yoochun has been a hard-nose about him stepping out. “I’m so sorry, my friend was in the area and we had to confer over some posters for Earth Day. It won’t happen again.” He indicates the papers Yoochun is holding. “Was that something you needed in a hurry? I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Yoochun actually doesn’t need them at all, having grabbed them at random from his desk, so he shakes his head, still talking curtly, “Never mind, I’ll take care of it,” before walking away.

The sight of Jaejoong looking anxious brings him no satisfaction at all and Yoochun is feeling quite miserable himself. After twenty minutes or so he caves, summoning Jaejoong for a cup of tea and telling him to bring one for himself.

Jaejoong appears relieved at the offer of an olive branch and they chat for a few minutes about the factories before Yoochun works the conversation round to the ‘friend.’

“So, Earth Day, huh?” he says, seemingly casual.

Jaejoong looks remorseful. “Yeah. I’m really sor-“

Yoochun waves off the apology. “No, it’s been a hectic day and I was just….tired and out-of-sorts,” he lies. “Am I going to find posters in the Men’s again?” he adds lightly.

Jaejoong laughs. “Not a bad idea,” he teases, “but these are actually for a gathering at the local park.”

He chatters on about plans formed by a local group and Yoochun learns during that the friend is Minho, an environmental lawyer, which displeases him, and an old childhood friend, which pleases him even less.

Yoochun spends the rest of the day being irrationally annoyed with his legal team.

 

*

 

Earth Day comes and goes. Yoochun takes out a full page ad promoting it in three of the biggest local newspapers. He wins praise from the media for the company and a brilliant smile from Jaejoong for himself.

 

*

 

It’s a Friday evening and they are wrapping up for the week, Jaejoong expressing excitement over the fine weather. Yoochun mentions maybe taking his yacht out and Jaejoong’s eyes get wide and adorable.

“Do you want to come with me?” Yoochun asks, grinning.

“Yes!” Then he groans. “I can’t,” he says. “Minho and I are protesting a mall the council is building in the old town district, so…”

“Right, well, maybe next time,” Yoochun says, very controlled. Minho pops up a lot in their conversation now and Yoochun would rather it…not.

He has zero inclination to take his baby out now but does so anyway, just so he can say yes if Jaejoong asks him about it.

 

*

 

Sunday lunch is anything but pleasant, his mood unimproved even after a night’s sleep, and his siblings bear the brunt of it. By the end of the meal, he has managed to antagonize both Sunye and Yoohwan in rather spectacular fashion.

“Honey, you can’t kill your brother,” Junsu says, correctly reading the dangerous look in his wife’s eyes.

“Why not? I have a spare.”

“Hey!” Yoohwan says indignantly, but being also rather fed-up with Yoochun, is not totally averse to his sister’s plans.

When homicide seems inevitable, Junsu banishes him to the kitchen.  Yoochun makes his way to where his mom is packing leftovers into neat boxes for her children to take home and sits with his cheek flat against the table.

Mrs.Park is a smart woman who has brought up three kids, so she reaches her own conclusions about her son’s unnatural moodiness.  She wisely doesn’t ask any questions and it’s only when the counter is free of food that she says, “Why don’t you bring Jaejoong home for lunch next week-end? I’d love to meet him.”

Yoochun bolts up in his chair. “What? Jaejoong? Why?”

“Well,” his mother says reasonably, “why not?”

Yoochun’s mind is suddenly blank and he can’t think of anything to counter this logic but after a few minutes, he recovers enough to earnestly point out how unfair it would be to make his P.A. spend time with the boss even on the weekend, conveniently forgetting his own yacht invitation. He talks long and eloquently about labor laws, both written and unspoken rules governing time off, Jaejoong’s passion for saving whales and how Sunye’s make-up is probably three-fourths whale blubber and okay, maybe he’s just rambling at this point.

But apparently it all makes some sort of sense to his mother, because at the end of the lengthy dialogue, she merely says “Well, why don’t you ask him and see what he says.”

Yoochun decides that, while he is far too old to be lying to his parent, desperate times call for desperate measures, so he looks her straight in the face and says, “Yes, absolutely.”

 

*

 

There is a small bouquet of origami flowers on Jaejoong’s desk Monday morning, all hand-made and sold by the residents of the old age home he sometimes volunteers at, and after Yoochun has absent-mindedly ordered one for every desk in the building, he asks Jaejoong how the protest went.

“Went nowhere,” Jaejoong grimaces.

Yoochun is sad.

After a split second of being a horrible human being where he is happy.

He doesn’t bring up the invitation because, yeah, that is just not going to happen.

 

*

 

When the phone rings on the last working day of the week, Yoochun is preoccupied with reading important documents and his mother’s voice at the end of the line is an honest surprise.

“So,” she says without preamble. “I just spoke to him and Jaejoong is coming to lunch this weekend.”

It takes a while for Yoochun’s brain to process this and even then he says stupidly, “Jaejoong? My Jaejoong?”

“Well,” his mother says delicately, “I doubt Jaejoong belongs to anyone but himself dear, but yes, your Jaejoong.”

So he kind of hangs up on her then just sits there, trying not to think vengeful thoughts about sneaky mothers. And how to deal with his family meeting with not-his Jaejoong and just, he could _really_ go for some coffee right now, double espresso shot topped off with alcohol!

Jaejoong enters his office tentatively about fifteen minutes later, holding some papers and he looks as mixed up as Yoochun feels.  “Your mother invited me for lunch on Sunday,” he says, eyeing his boss with a hint of trepidation. “I-“

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” Yoochun interrupts with a groan. “Just….mothers!” He throws his hands in the air helplessly.

Jaejoong starts to laugh. “It’s ok. She seems very nice…”

“And persuasive?” Yoochun raises an eye-brow.

Jaejoong brings the papers in front of his face to hide his laughter, eyes sparkling above them.

“Anyway, I said yes?”

It’s almost a question and Yoochun accepts there is nothing he can do at this point.

Tries to look like this Really Really Bad Idea has his complete backing.

 _Don’t bring cacti_ , he wants to blurt. Instead he says ‘Dress casual.’

 

*

 

Yoochun is trailing behind Mrs. Park as she carefully sets tableware and transfers dishes from the kitchen to the formal dining room.

“And don’t mention global warming. He really isn’t weird, ok? I’m sorry I said he’s weird, he’s not. He’s…Anyway, can you not bring up the latest corruption scandal?”

“Yoochunnie,” Mrs. Park says exasperatedly, “can you maybe find something to do in the living room?”

“Omma!” Yoochun brandishes a soup tureen distractedly. “If he offers to re-decorate away bad energy, promise you won’t let Sunye laugh!”

Behind him, Sunye stares at her husband. “Is he serious?”

“Ohhhhhh boy,” Junsu grins delightedly. “What time is he coming again?”

When the door bell sounds, Yoochun says “I’ll get it” in a way that sort of rings through the house, then freezes. He’s hyper aware of Yoohwan gaping at him and Junsu looking so entertained, he longs to punch him in the face. Then his body unknots itself and he’s walking, racing, past Sunye’s avid expression to fling open the door.

And

He’s never seen this Jaejoong before. Eyes slightly uncertain, mouth curved in a tremulous smile, long-sleeved white linen shirt that goes perfectly with white linen pants, very country club chic and a far cry from his formal attire at work and Yoochun feels fifteen and nervous enough to choke on his tongue.

They stare at each other for a long moment before Yoochun murmurs a quiet “Hi.”

“Hi,” Jaejoong returns shyly.

Yoochun can sense his entire family shamelessly spying on them and as he moves aside to let Jaejoong enter, there’s a collective gasp. “Ohhhh” he thinks he hears Sunye say, almost reverently.

It goes well after that.

His mother and Sunye take him under their wing, beaming thanks for the bottle of wine Jaejoong has brought. Junsu for some reason slaps Yoochun on the back with an approving smile. He is slightly stunned yet very glad by how quickly their nervous guest is made to feel at ease by everyone, because God knows, he is badly failing as a host right now.

The women draw more information out of him than Yoochun has attempted to in four months and no amount of frowning seems to work. Jaejoong doesn’t appear to mind though, answering their questions cheerfully and since Yoochun himself is more than a little curious, he can’t bring himself to be firm with them.

Now if only Yoohwan will stop staring at Jaejoong like a landed fish, Yoochun can focus on lunch and not on how much he itches to smack his little brother.

At some point, the conversation turns naturally to the subject of Jaejoong’s family.

“I don’t really have any,” Jaejoong states matter-of-factly, “I grew up in an orphanage.”

“Oh!” Sunye says, upset and his mother adds a quiet “I’m sorry,” but Yoochun can only stare at him soundlessly because the thought of Jaejoong, who loves everyone and everything, growing up without being loved _hurts,_ a tangible ache in the centre of his chest.

But Jaejoong himself is laughing and shaking his head. “No, no, it really is not as tragic as it sounds. The people who ran it were dedicated and good, I still go back there often. I met my best friend, Minho, there and he’s my family. Nothing like Oliver Twist, I promise!”

His smile is genuine, devoid of self-pity and seals his acceptance in the hearts of everyone at the table.

“Wow,” Yoohwan blurts. “No wonder you are into good causes.” Then valiantly tries to hide the wince caused by three legs kicking his under the table.

“Ah, not really.” Jaejoong shifts uncomfortably in his chair. “Just the realization that everything in life could use a little saving.”

“Have another helping of rice, Jaejoong-ah,” Mrs. Park says, “you need a little more meat on you.”

There is a look in her eye, recognizable only to her children, which proclaims Jaejoong has just found someone who thinks he could use a little saving himself.

*

 

Jaejoong lives in a tiny apartment in a modest part of the city. Yoochun tries not to peer curiously up at the windows as he kills the engine.

“Well, you were a hit,” he turns to smile at Jaejoong, feeling a funny kind of bone-deep contentment.

“I had a wonderful time.” Jaejoong returns his smile. “Your family is lovely, especially your mother. I can see where you get your...” He stumbles to a sudden halt. “Um,” he says and goes pink.

And Yoochun’s heart kind of goes hay-wire.

He is not even aware of doing it until he _does_ but suddenly he’s leaning over into Jaejoong’s space, and he’s kissed him and the surprised gasp the other man lets out only works in Yoochun’s favor.

So he presses his advantage, giving himself free rein to do to Jaejoong’s mouth all those things he’s tried really hard not to imagine doing.

There are a thousand knobs and levers and things digging into his body and he had never known before how much of a torture chamber his car apparently was but none of that matters with the taste of Jaejoong on his tongue and the feel of Jaejoong under his fingertips.

A significant amount of time passes, or maybe no time at all, but eventually the gear shift gives him a particularly vicious poke in the ribs and Yoochun comes up for air, blinking dazedly. He is semi-sprawled over Jaejoong, who is almost flat on his back, head and shoulders smushed against the door at an awkward angle. One hand is clutching a ridiculously slim hip and the other is under Jaejoong’s shirt, dangerously high and just, shit. They are in public. They could get arrested.

He didn’t even really ask Jaejoong.

He straightens, trying to get his breath under control and after a long minute, Jaejoong does too. There is a silence that Yoochun cannot break just yet.

He watches the other man straighten his clothes and resists the urge to mess it up again by holding tightly onto the steering wheel.

“Well, goodnight,” Jaejoong says very quietly when he’s done, before letting himself out.

Yoochun just as quietly watches him disappear.

 

*

 

Needless to say, he does not get much sleep. It’s a long weekend, so as soon as the sun is free from the horizon, he heads back to the family home. Sitting in the living room and surrounded by things familiar and loved, Mrs.Park is a calm and soothing presence. She looks strangely unsurprised to see him at an hour decidedly odd for any of her children to visit, and when he lays his head down in her lap, wordlessly makes room for him.

Once he is well settled, she slowly runs her fingers through his hair, smiling affectionately to herself. “I can’t remember the last time this happened,” she remarks.

“You know I love you,” Yoochun mumbles plaintively.

She knows.

“Your father would have been so proud of you.”

The words are soft and it really is not what Yoochun wants to hear. Not today.

His heart sinks within himself and his mind runs through all of the things he needs to say as he tries not to choke on the words. But he’s underesitimated his mother.

“So,” Mrs.Park asks briskly, “are you ready to talk about Jaejoong?”

Yoochun can’t decide if he should be glad or not. “I’m so sorry, Omma,” he says, because he really does love his mother and Jaejoong does need to be talked about.

“You know,” she says pensively, “my time with your father was shorter than most couples are lucky to have but I don’t count a second of it wasted. It brought enough happiness to last the rest of my life.”

Her hand pauses in its ministrations. “I am not going to lie. Jaejoong is not what I had envisioned when I pictured the life you would lead but-“ She smiles to herself. “I think this is even better. The two of you just… _fit_. As if he was meant for you.”

“Soulmate,” Yoochun whispers, heart soaring.

“Ah,” his mother says, sounding pleased. “That is a good word. I like it.”

So did he.

 

*

 

In some corner of his mind, Yoochun is aware of the irony of having jumped the one secretary who didn’t chase after him.  But he has more pressing matters to consider as he drives straight from his family home to Jaejoong's.

A moment like this demands a gesture of course, but this is Jaejoong, which wipes out every idea Yoochun can come up with. Slightly nauseous and conscious of being totally unprepared, he knocks on the door.

It is a few minutes before Jaejoong opens it and then he blinks at the sight of his boss on his doorstep on a holiday.

Yoochun thrusts a badly constructed origami flower made from a page torn out of his mother’s fashion magazine at him.

“I didn’t think you’d approve of flowers being wasted, let along a truck-full of red roses, and it would take them way too long at the retirement home to make five hundred origami hearts and I didn’t want to wait that long so then I was going to adopt a whale but I wasn’t sure if that’s even a thing and balloons have plastic in them-“

Which isn’t _anything_ like the opening speech he had planned on his way over and God, what he wouldn’t do for a rewind-erase button on life right now!

Jaejoongs’ eyes get sort of wide and wary and wet and he’s not looking at Yoochun but at the paper flower in his hand as he chokes out, “What are you doing?”

“Um, proposing?” Yoochun says, very light-headed.

Jaejoong lifts his eyes at that but the look in them is so mournful and tragic that Yoochun just gives up on words and pulls him into a tight embrace.  The other man makes a small sound that is either assent or complaint but it doesn’t matter because Yoochun is not about to let go. Not now, not ever.

“We can’t, your position, your family, your _mother_ ,” Jaejoong mumbles incoherently against his chest, awash with guilt, and Yoochun presses a warm kiss to the top of his head.

“She says hi, by the way, and Junsu is probably emailing you embarrassing baby pictures as we speak and Yoohwan is plotting to finish me off for getting you first but it doesn’t matter because I _did_ see you first and I’m keeping you.”

Jaejoongs’ only response is a half laugh, half sob but his arms tighten agreeably around Yoochun, face still buried in his chest, so Yoochun takes it for a happy ending, shuffles him inside, kicks the door shut behind them, all without loosening his grip.

“Now where were we last night?” he murmurs cheekily but his heart is all kinds of over-flowing.

A satisfyingly long interval later, Yoochun sits on the couch with his love tucked against his side, telling his body sternly that a deliciously rumpled Jaejoong is as far as they will get today and to behave itself in the name of romantic first-times that involve champagne, music and everything bio-degradable.

“Maybe someday we can adopt…” Jaejoong says dreamily, curled up so close there is barely room for air between them.

“A whale,” Yoochun nods absent-mindedly, lost in his own plans.

Jaejoong turns to laugh at him with his eyes. “You’re so weird,” he says lovingly.

And Yoochun can live with that.

 

 

 


End file.
